


Healers Need Healing Too

by QuailTail



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Depression, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Genji is a Little Shit, Humor, Jealousy, Kinda?, M/M, Medic!Reader, Meditation, Robot/Human Relationships, Self-Acceptance, Self-Hatred, Slow Burn, Smoking, War, actually you're even MORE of a little shit, sass levels are skyrocketing, this is slightly genji x reader but zenyatta is the main crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-13 02:02:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7958065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuailTail/pseuds/QuailTail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you joined Overwatch, you expected only what the legends told; heroic grandeur and endless victory! But reality struck that impression straight into the ground once you learn what war is really like. You feel unappreciated as a supporting member. You're already considering dropping out. But what happens when you meet a friendly omnic monk the moment you're about to break?</p><p>After all, they say those who cross Zenyatta's path are never the same again...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Strife

**Author's Note:**

> wow, I haven't written a fanfic in so long. this feels weird. I just really love this game and can't get enough of robot gandhi and green cyborg ninja dude. so I need to pool out my love for them because it hurts there's only so many fics for them on here (reader-insert-wise i mean). we all need a self-gratifying read every now and again. ;) don't hate me if this sucks lmao (btw i have no beta readers ever so um excuse the mixed use of past tense and present tense.)

 

 

    “Why am I still here, do they even need me? God.” You mutter under your breath, rushing frustratingly down the hall of the temple. You feel like your teammates side-glance you rather maliciously when you pass by. “They hate me, _they hate me so much._ Fuck, _fuck._ ”

    You try to avoid eye contact with everyone as you head outside for some fresh air. You were in the midst of some intense self-loathing and you wanted to keep your tears at bay. That was easier said than done when intimidating men like 76 and Hanzo and the rest of the folks were staring daggers into you whenever you were present. The team was probably already fed up with your wallowing apologies. You stumble out the temple entrance and a chill wind greets your face, the tear tracks on your cheeks already starting to freeze from the cold. Your heart is heavy, and deeply inhaling the air only leaves an icy pang in your lungs. The desolate Nepali mountains stretch out along the horizon, fresh fallen snow sparkling against the setting sun. You step towards the ledge and rest your arms on the stone barricade, head in hands, shaking with guilt and grief.

    “ _They_ hate me, _I_ hate me. I guess we have _something_ in common.”

    Joining overwatch might have been the biggest regret of all. This task force gave you the impression that they were the heroes fighting the good fight, and you developed the urge to join them after learning of their cause, and how they put their lives on the line for the good of humanity. The legendary tales made you starry-eyed and determined to become legendary too.

    Though when it came down to it, you realized how childish a dream it was.

    Barely anyone gave you the warm welcome you hoped for, or bothered to befriend you. You feel inferior to everyone. You feel unwanted. The brave and heroic exaggeration within the records of overwatch’s past conflicts was all romanticized, especially now that you are living it and learning what war is really like. It isn’t always prideful and victorious like they say. You are only a healer and don’t really know how to work alongside your allies just yet. Everything is moving so fast! You were swept up into a battle the instant you arrived! Your first fight was in Ilios and you felt so unprepared. Nobody knew who you were, nobody had the time to even speak a word to you. You didn’t know the area well enough to keep up with the others. And to top it off, the team _lost_ that day. How could you not feel like it was your fault in some way?

    So now, your disgruntled team traveled on to the temple in Nepal, setting up camp to wait for the next battle which should start tomorrow around noon. You truly underestimated how much action there would be. Although you wanted to get to know everyone personally when you first arrived, you completely lost interest in socializing with them now. They were too busy bickering over their defeat and you are here wallowing in your own pity. This is worse than the skirmishes themselves…

    You huff an excessive sigh, watching your warm breath fog into the frigid breeze. The beautiful sight of the sun setting behind the mountains only brought more stressful thoughts about the upcoming fight. You mumble on and on about how you’re an idiot for coming here, and that you’re useless, and you couldn’t be a value to this cause no matter how hard you tried. When you hurt like this, you can’t stop yourself from smoking off the anxiety. You stuff your numbing hands into your pockets and promptly pull out a pack, hankering for a calming, dizzy spell. With the flick of your lighter at the tip of your cancer stick between your lips, you breathe in the bitterness.

    For a second you feel good, but then you start thinking unfavorably again and begin to pace. You kick a few rocks by your feet and rake your hair. You want to leave, yet you want to stay. You think, _“it’s just the first day and I’ll get the hang of things soon, maybe, I dunno.”_

    Your stomach sinks when you are interrupted by someone clearing their throat behind you. You stop dead in your tracks and slowly crane your neck to the source. You see two robotic allies sitting on the edge of a frozen fountain a little distance away, and it makes you terribly embarrassed that they witnessed you stumbling around like a fidgety fool. You recognize them as Genji and Zenyatta, resting criss-cross-legged on the stone, seemingly concerned about the disturbance of silence rather than your troubles. But then again, you couldn’t read either of their faces to tell if they really thought that way.

    “What’re  _you_ doing here?…” You sounded more rude than you intended.

    “We are meditating. Or at least, we _were_ meditating.” Genji quips back at you. Zenyatta swats his student’s arm for returning such negativity.

    You just stand there and stare at them, puffing at your cig again and tapping your foot. Zenyatta’s orbs are circling around his head like molasses, reflecting the peaceful vibes he harnesses. Genji’s ribbon twirls in the wind from the back of his helm, and his hands become noticeably strained on his knees when you ogle him longer than he deems comfortable. You look away for a brevity to wipe at your eyes with a sleeve, and cross your arms over your chest because the cold was finally getting to you. You feel so vulnerable, and Zenyatta could sense this cluster of strong emotions emanating off you. Not only that, he could see your eyes are red from hours of crying and the fumes of your burning tobacco stream out of your nose in an irritable gust. You are in turmoil. He could see it clear as day.

    “Come join us, my dear,” Zenyatta beckons you with a welcoming hand, his voice is so soft and serene. “Tell us what is the matter.”

    “Nothin’s the fuckin’ matter.” You grit your teeth stubbornly.

    You look away shamefully when you see him lower his hand dejectedly, likely a bit hurt by your brash behavior. He was only trying to help, yet you are so upset you can’t stop yourself from lashing out at even the most undeserving of people. You just really needed to be alone. You take another deep drag of your cigarette, worried about how they thought about you now. This shouldn’t be the first side they see of you. The ugly, mean side that comes out only when you are reminded how much of a waste of space you are. You wanted these people to like you, and look at how things are turning out!

    “Is it because of the fact we lost in Ilios? Don’t take it to heart, newbie. There will be quite a few more disappointments along the way. We won’t always win.” Genji hopes that will be enough to soothe your woes, but you grunt at him. It was much more than that, but you weren’t willing to explain any further.

    “Though, I apologize… I don’t remember seeing you on the battlefield... What category fighter are you?” Genji asks.

    You roll your eyes subtly, it made sense he didn't notice you before, he was too busy running up walls and blocking enemy fire with his katana and shit. He was such an impressive example of only what you dreamt to be... although you were once proud of your healing abilities, a new ambition surfaced in your mind. You wanted to become a woman of  _action,_ not linger on the sidelines and let the big boys take all the fame! 

    “Support.” You spat it out like it was the worst choice of all. And you definitely thought so.

    “Ah, as am I, darling.” Zenyatta gives a lazy peace sign. “From one healer to another, know that when a team loses, they always blame the healers. When a team wins, they celebrate the fighters. Ovation is hard to come by in this division. You must remain humble.”

    And in seconds you already feel selfish for wishing on glory and making a name for yourself. You didn’t want to remain in the shadows of these valiant warriors, no, you wanted to be one yourself! Even though you have little-to-no battle skills whatsoever! You thought it was doable! With kindness and persistence and teamwork… Hell, who were you kidding? You were obviously too impatient to build yourself up to that point. And you were _mad_ at your own pettiness. And you’re mad that they didn’t even know what you stood for, who you were, when you’ve been here for a couple days. Were you really that invisible? You narrow your eyes at them and breathe in more smog.

    “Why are you doing that?” Zenyatta points in your direction.

    “It calms me down.” You say, tapping the ashes onto the snowy ground.

    “ _How nice_..." The sarcasm in Genji's tone is brutal. "Unfortunately we are _downwind_ of you, and we are suffering with your secondhand smoke,” He comically bats away the cloud shifting into his masked face. “ _I_ _can’t_ be _calm_ when my _lungs_ are two of the few organs I have left.” Zenyatta shakes his head at how saucy Genji’s acting, but he turns his attention back to you rather quickly.

    “Inhaling toxins is far from healing.” The monk adds.

     In a shitty, spiteful way, you mock his words by sucking in another drag so severely that it scorches all the way to the filter, and you blow the smoke straight at them. Zenyatta looks indifferent but Genji is rattling with rage. You are actually inwardly reeling at how much of a bitch you’re being, but you were in the worst mood and couldn’t think straight. You turn your heel to gaze at the landscape, but in a blink, your wrist was snatched up by a metallic hand. Genji moved so swift you didn’t even hear him coming. He plucks the cig right out of your fingers and flicks it off the balcony. You gape over the ledge and watch it fade into the abyss.

    “What the hell--” You whine, ready to give him half your mind, but your eyes widen at the sight of his other hand twiddling your entire cigarette pack tauntingly. How did he manage to sneak that out of your pocket so stealthily? Before you could question him, he chucked it over the ledge too.

    “Say sayonara to bad breath!” Genji laughs triumphantly, and you gasp loud.

    “YOU. ASS.” You nearly snarled in his face, which was quite hard considering he was taller than you and you had to be on your tip-toes just to be at eye level. You knew you deserved it though, but you still wanted to hear his excuse. “THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?”

    “Those who disrespect my master are never left unscathed.” He says matter-of-factly. You glance over his shoulder to peek at Zenyatta, who was listening intently to your argument. He gives a little wave despite your hesitance to play nice. “And smoking is terribly unhealthy.”

    “That _Mccree_ guy smokes! Why does it make a difference if I do it?!”

    “Because he probably only does it to look cool. He isn’t in such an obvious state of distress like yourself,” Genji places his hands on your shoulders in a gentle manner, but you shrug them off quick.

    “I’M NOT STRESSED!” You snap. “FUCK OFF!”

    They watch you storm off into another direction, stomping like a child all the way back inside the temple. They share a look. Then they glimpse back to witness you flipping the bird at them before ducking inside the doorway, and Genji snorts and tries to hide his laughter with a cough into his fist. Genji reclaims his seat next to his master and it isn’t long until his laughter comes back. Zenyatta quizzically watches him hold his gut while howling at this totally un-funny situation.

    “My, she is quite the little ball of fury.” He manages to say between breaths. “Did you hear that? She's so stressed she can't even give a compelling argument.”

    The only response Genji received was a crestfallen hum from Zenyatta. Genji becomes serious at the flip of a coin, acknowledging his master’s displeasure in the previous discourse.

    “Should we go after her?” Genji proposes.

    “No,” Zenyatta’s sudden decision caught him off guard. “She will only grow more agitated. Let’s allow her time to contemplate on our offering. I said I’d lend an ear and I’m not one for revoking my word. But I won’t force anything she won’t willingly take. She must take it upon herself to seek change and guidance.”

    Genji nods, agreeing completely with his wise judgement. He quietly admires how Zenyatta dealt with conflicts such as this. He is always so balanced, so civil and peaceful. No matter the circumstance.

    “I still worry for her, though. She looks to be falling apart at the seams.”

    “Do you think she will open up to us someday, master?”

    “I have a strong feeling she might.” Zenyatta peers down at his lap, hope filling his core. He always looks forward to sharing enlightenment with those who need it most. He did so with Genji, and he’s thankful for this new possible opportunity to help another lost soul. You are in his prayers now.

 

...

 

“Only time will tell, my brightest pupil.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, most of you are thinking "no way in hell would I be so cruel towards zenyatta/genji, he is a sweet prince who must be protected at all costs". Well, this is in the point of time where you think everyone hates you, and you feel the need to fight fire with fire and hate everyone back. including them. so mean, huh? damn, you need to chill. what a jerk.


	2. Cosmos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is so short! I barely have free time these days. this chapter is very passive-aggressive towards my irritating experiences as playing support. lmao. and I use italics too much. also zenyatta being a handsome fellow. I will always call him pretty one way or another. WELL. ENJOY!

 

    You stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours now. The intricate designs in the wooden frames only distracted you for so long. A sharp ache from your knuckles radiates every now and again, reminding you that the skin split open after you punched the wall during your temper tantrum. You didn’t want to heal yourself, only let it sting and bleed. The warm tears that drizzled down the corners of your eyes lost themselves in your messy hair and ran dry now, leaving you hollow. Damn, how were you not dying from dehydration from all this incessant crying? You wonder if your team would mourn for you if you did. Were they even _your_ team? Did they even consider you a part of it?

    You are losing yourself in your thoughts now. Thoughts on how you respected every one of them yet they hadn’t thought the same of you. How you knew all of their names and they didn't even know you _existed_ . And what was _really_ frustrating, was that Zenyatta is _right._ When you were in your last battle, you watched support members like him, Mercy, and Ana, slave over keeping everyone’s health up but _the rest wouldn’t get to the fucking control point._ They tore themselves away from the healers and scattered, hoping to cover more ground... but they only managed to _injure themselves_ and lose the match! But do they realize they were at fault?

 _No_. They argue, “Why wasn’t support with us?!” “Why didn’t they do their part!?”

    You snatch your pillow and scream into it. This stupidity was driving you insane. “ _There are always more fighters than healers, and it’d be impossible to watch over multiple people all at the same time in different areas of the map. Idiots. Oh my god.”_ You fume, chewing on the pillowcase bitterly. _“How does Zenyatta remain so chill about this?”_

    Then your anger simmers into a guilty sadness again. You really wanted to apologize to him. Zenyatta spoke to you with the kindness and warmth you hoped for when you first arrived, and you treated him like garbage. Genji too... Zenyatta sounded like he sincerely wanted to know why you were so upset, and even offered you a seat next to him just _because._ He didn’t _need_ to do that. He just cared that much about the people around him. You never had someone like that in your life. Your own _family_ didn’t care for you, and in that short moment, Zenyatta shown you more hospitality and affection than your  _parents_ in your _entire upbringing_.

    That realization struck you so hard you sprung up from bed with the determination to _apologize._ You knew it was too late in the night to do such a thing, but you were emotionally irrational and knew you weren’t getting any sleep otherwise. You had to settle this _now,_ and make amends with him because that’s the _least_ he deserved.

    You journey out into the hall, only to be shrouded in faint darkness. You could barely see the outlines of your surroundings. It takes a fleeting minute to adjust your eyes to the pitch black, passing by dorms. You hear muffled snores through the doors, everyone was sound asleep... Yet you are restless, creeping along the floorboard to avoid making any noise to possibly stir them awake. You begin to curse under your breath; where the hell was _Zenyatta’s quarters?_

    The hall was growing increasingly brighter as you continued onward. An odd flicker of yellow danced on the wall past the corner, casting a lone silhouette upon the stone surface. Its mysterious visage peaks your interest and you sneak towards it quietly, as if any disturbance would scare the light away. Who was this person, lingering in solitude within the grand temple corridors so late at night? Once you reach the edge of the corner, the warm light glowing from inside reminds you of _fire._ The shadow of the person inside was unwavering. You don’t remember it moving an inch since you first laid your eyes on it.

    To answer all inquiries, you peek into the room, eyes widening at the glory of its contents.

    The room was actually a massive _shrine,_ with high-arches and large royal banners lit brilliantly by hundreds of red candles lining the walls. The flames quivered from the winds pooling in from the wide latticed window, which displayed a perfectly centered full moon. It was so wide and bleach-white, it was nearly blinding against the dark sky. Glass chimes clinked pleasingly from the drafts. Sitting in the midst of all this beauty was none other than Zenyatta himself, faced away from your feasting eyes, likely gazing solemnly at lady luna in his own silence. His mechanical spine is straightened and his shoulders broad, resting in the siddhartha position, harnessing all of his inner energy into the orbs revolving around his head like his mind held its own gravitational pull. He was a mystical world of gleaming metal and fruitful consciousness that you suddenly wanted to explore. He has an entire universe within himself, you were sure of it, brimming with knowledge and grace and fortitude.

    “ _Ommm_.” He drones deep through his chest, it carries itself on the wind.

    An aura of harmony slows down his orbs even more, to the point where they cycle like drifting debris within the cosmos. Their engravings illuminate, and shift into different patterns of spherical puzzles. He begins to lift from his position on the floor, hovering in his cross-legged form, simply stunning in every way.

    “ _Ommm.”_   

    The orbs spun quickly to generate heat like miniature suns, glowing gold within the gloom of the shrine. Rays of light soaked from Zenyatta’s body, and you were nearly forgetting how to breathe because it was so astounding up close. You overhear him whisper so faintly, _“Om is the bow, the arrow is the soul, Brahman the mark,”_

    Ghostly arms sprout out from his back, much like the Hindu god he named. They all independently gesture their own mudras symbols, all representing healing, soul cleansing and the banishing of evils. They sway like an ocean, but burn bright like fire all at once. You had to shield your eyes because he was literally _blinding._

    “He’s practicing transcendence.” A hushed, familiar voice spoke into your ear from behind, spooking you out of your peep-show. You recognized his accent and the dim reflection of green on the floorboards... _Genji._ _What is he doing here?_ You turn to him and prepare to interrogate him but he slaps a hand over your mouth to shut you up. “Don’t disturb him. This is his deepest trial of evening meditation and he’s trying his best to strengthen his stamina with his ultimate.”

    You wrung your hand around his wrist to pry off his hand but his grip is iron.

    “He is beautiful, isn’t he?” Genji sighs. You gape at him for his oddly amorous admittance about his master. But you nodded at him to show you agreed. You wonder how long Genji has watched Zenyatta with you secretly hidden in the dark. Or how long he’s watched him throughout their questionable relationship, before you ever wound up wedged between them. It seems Genji had… interesting feelings for Zenyatta. And you were afraid you were learning how easy it is to love him too.

    The illumination within the shrine brightened even more, and you and Genji witnessed something strange occur to your firm hand on his wrist. The bloodied, split skin on your knuckles began to bind and heal from Zenyatta’s transcendence field. Genji seemed a bit taken aback that he didn’t notice your self-inflicted injury earlier. You both hear Zenyatta exclaim his confusion of _feeling someone absorb some of his energy._ He could sense whenever his power was used on his teammates, even if it’s the smallest fraction... and in this moment he could tell _someone_ was _nearby._ Genji pulls you farther behind the door frame for cover.

    “Who wishes to see me at a time like this? And you are _hurt?_ ” Zenyatta calls out from the doorway, not angry in the least.

    The hold Genji had on you lifted in an instant, and when you looked his way he was _gone._ He left you alone in this embarrassingly awkward situation, knowing you wouldn’t have the time or speed to run after him if Zenyatta poked his head out of the doorway to investigate. _What an ass!_ You start to sweat. Gosh, you felt like spying on the omnic meditating like this was an intrusion on his privacy! You wanted to run _too._ But he seemed like he never had any intentions to close himself off from anyone. He was here in the dead of night, opening up the deepest parts of himself for anyone to stumble upon and see. He was too welcoming for his own good. On the other hand, did he ever sleep?

    You remember, you are here on a mission. You are going to _apologize._ Zenyatta is waiting for you to come out from the shadows and show yourself. You gulp down your cowardice and step into the spotlight.

 

  
He lets out a happy hum. He _knew_ his prayers would be answered… _You came._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...wow don't you totally hate cliffhangers? I hate cliffhangers as well! I will never do cliffhangers. ....... :^)


End file.
